


Worse Than Gratefulness

by Leni



Series: Makes Three [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold in the Dark Castle, F/M, The Dark Castle (Once Upon a Time)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 10:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17222582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: “Where are we going? This is the way to your tower.”“I know.”“Why are we going there?”





	Worse Than Gratefulness

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: pace
> 
> 12/12 in the [ Twelve Days of Christmas](http://leni-ba.tumblr.com/post/181543205598/12-days-of-christmas).

Afternoon light bathed the room, as the curtains had been thrown open despite the dismal view of the barren, snow-covered grounds. The cold didn’t seep through the warming spells Rumpelstiltskin had placed on the walls, which explained why Belle was comfortable in her short, thin sleeves, while the baby on the bed wore only one of the cottons Belle had drafted as his diapers.

Rumpelstiltskin paused at her doorstep, rubbing his fingertips in quick, nervous circles as he considered his approach.

Interrupting his maid during her leisure time used to involve plucking a book from her hands, complaining about the waste of candles or firelight as he shepherded her to her bedroom for a night’s worth of sleep.

Now that she was bent over her needlework, a tiny nightshirt taking shape under her hands, Rumpelstiltskin found his feet reluctant to intrude in the scene, and his throat too tight with ancient emotions to call her name.

“Do you need anything, Rumple?”

Belle threaded her needle through the cloth, allowing her to look up without worry that it would slip and pinch when she moved to retrieve it. Her expression was patient, obviously seeing nothing out of the norm with her master hovering outside her room.

“It’s fine,” she said, divining the source of his hesitation. “He’s a heavy sleeper. You won’t wake him if you come in.”

Rumpelstiltskin glanced to the bed again, the great, fluffy pillows made into a fortress on either side of the baby to keep him from rolling away. “This won’t do,” he muttered.

Belle’s face hardened. “I’m not giving up Matthew.”

Rumpelstiltskin raised his hands, palms spread to signify his surrender. Making Belle see reason had been impossible, and now that two weeks had passed and the girl stayed attached, he had reconsidered a few things.

“I’ve done the laundry, and washed the dishes, and dusted the receiving hall,” Belle insisted. “You said I could keep him as long as I did my work. You said so, Rumpelstiltskin!”

“I know.” His first instinct was to protest that the Dark One always kept his deals, but that wasn’t what she needed to hear. “You can. But this…” He waved around the small room, a gesture that ended in pointing toward the hallway outside. “Come,” and because she hesitated, he added, “and bring the babe.”

Curiosity and trust mixed to convince her.

She put down the unfinished shirt, and swept the baby into a practiced hold. “Where are we going?” she asked a few minutes later, looking around with a frown as she followed a few steps behind him. “This is the way to your tower.”

“I know.”

“Why are we going there?”

He clicked his tongue. “We’re not.”

The crease between Belle’s brows deepened.

“You’ll see, dearie,” said Rumpelstiltskin, his voice edging on a giggle. “We’re almost there.”

For several thoughtful seconds, he could feel the weight of her gaze between his shoulder blades. He straightened his back in response, slowing their pace to maintain the suspense.

“You…” Whatever she meant to say, it was lost into a hopeful gasp. “It’s a nursery!” She awkwardly lifted her skirts so she could rush to a spot before him, her wide grin infectious. “It’s a nursery, isn’t it?”

Grinning back, he went around her, leaning sideways as he whispered, “Come and see.”

From the corner of his eye, Rumpelstiltskin caught the moment she remembered that her arms were busy and that she couldn’t launch herself into a grateful hug.

“Thank you!”

A dismissive rebuff was on the tip of his tongue, but it melted in the warmth of being thanked for taking care of a child. “You insisted,” he reminded her.

Belle was still smiling. “I  _asked_.”

His memory brought up half a dozen hints that conditions weren’t optimal in her small room, but Rumpelstiltskin didn’t contradict her.

“But why here?” Blue eyes danced merrily as they continued forward. “On this side of the castle, I mean.” She glanced down at her sleeping burden, her smile fond but with a hint of wryness. “Babies cry, Rumple.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh. Really.”

“You know what I mean. You don’t like being interrupted in the middle of the night.”

The reminder of the circumstances where she’d found that out made Rumpelstiltskin’s fingers twitch, regret lancing his insides for an instant before he recovered. “It’s not a dungeon, dearie,” he chided. “Even I wouldn’t leave a kid on a pile of straw.”

“No. I didn’t mean-”

“It’s close to your new rooms,” he spoke over her, hastening even as Belle’s long dress forbid her from matching his stride.

“New….” Belle whispered, surprised again. “For me?”

“No. For  _me_.” Rumpelstiltskin decided that it was safer to move his hands behind his back and twine his fingers together. Less temptation to poke her nose, or wag a teasing finger at her. It seemed disrespectful, somehow. “Since you haven’t been able to feed a baby, clothe him, and still have breakfast ready on time, I’ve decided to shorten your trek.” His warning glare vanished under her radiant smile. He managed to huff, sounding as stern as he could, “No excuses now!”

“Of course. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

A meal he rarely bothered to partake, in truth.

Belle, as his housekeeper of so many months, was well aware of his habits; but thankfully she remained silent on the matter.

“Rumple?”

Rumpelstiltskin resigned himself to another stream of gratefulness.

It was worse:

“You’re the best man I’ve ever known.”

The words were so unscripted, so honestly meant, that he winced. “It’s just a different room, girl. It's not even decorated.”

Because he would leave those choices to her.

A sweet smile said that Belle understood that.

“I know you’re not perfect,” she continued, coming so close that their arms pressed together as they walked, and his loose sleeve brushed the baby’s forehead where it laid against her chest, “but I’m glad I came to live with you instead.”

He tried to laugh, but it was a nervous sound to his own ears. “Better the Dark One’s overworked maid than your knight’s precious wife?”

Belle leaned her cheek against his shoulder, ignoring his attempt to be snide. “Exactly.”

 

The End  
30/12/18

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, please! :)


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